Perihelion
by Nymbis
Summary: Stanton Princeton had a normal life until he and his friends were attacked by people they never knew existed: Followers. Now, they find that they are the only force standing between the Atrox and the hope of all mankind. AU, role reversal.
1. Prologue: Muggers in Pigtails

_Perihelion_

**AN: **This is an experimental fic of sorts, I wanted to switch the bad guys and good guys around. That's right, the Daughters are now Followers, and the Followers are…well, you'll see. It's been a while in planning, and I've decided to take a break from NC (cough, again) and write this instead. It seems more fun : )

Thanks to **Rayne **for offering me her ideas : )

**Pairings: **Are for right now undecided. I want to stay clear from conventional ones though (Vanessa x Michael, Serena x Stanton, Catty x Chris, Jimena x Collin, etc.) since the characters are going to have somewhat different roles and relationships to each other. Feel free to suggest any you want to see though : )

**Prologue: Muggers in Pigtails**

Between getting held at gunpoint, having his wallet lifted, his glasses broken cleanly in half, and possibly even wetting himself, Karyl decided that he didn't quite care much for getting mugged. Especially by a little girl.

That's right- Karyl Lattimore- a tall, 16 year old young man- had just been mugged and emotionally harassed by a thirteen year old. Of course, when he retold the story, the little girl with the gang tattoos would be changed into a three hundred pound man with brass knuckles and a rather violent disposition, but the fact still remained. He had been mugged. By a girl. A little girl.

Picking himself up off of the dirty street- the vicious midget demon had bolted as soon as she grabbed his pathetically thin wallet- he sighed and tried helplessly to pop his lens back into the wire rim frame so he could see. Of course, his frames were cleanly bent in half- the girl had freakishly strong forefingers- but this way he could at least see out of one eye, enough to navigate back home anyways.

His night had been going so well, too. He had managed to clock out early, buy groceries, start his nightly word jumble, and he was just about to head down to The Moonbeam café to grab a caffeine-free, fat-free, sugar-free latte, or as others knew it, really hot milk, to make his riveting night complete when he had been sideswiped by the terror in pigtails.

Yes, yes. She had _pigtails._

And now Karyl had no cash, no bus pass, no eyesight, and he had forgotten his jacket at home. Groaning inwardly, he _always _brought his jacket, he stood up- wobbling a bit, and pressed his hand against the building's brick wall to use it for guidance. His mouth dropped in absolute horror when he realized that some cretin had put _used_chewing gum on the wall. Thoroughly disgusted, Karyl tried to pull his hand away, and a clump of indiscriminate pink goo came with it. He wanted to wipe it off on his khaki pants, but he had just ironed, washed, and carefully dried them, so he settled for smacking his hand against the wall, grimacing the whole way through.

Apparently satisfied at having finally disposed of the unsanitary substance, he squinted and tried to find a different way to make his way though. The moonless night did little to help his already impaired eyesight, and the world was a bunch of indeterminate blurs of color. Sighing, Karyl made a few shaky steps forward, a hand braced against the wall as he stumbled like a drunkard. An involuntary shiver crawled down his spine simultaneously as a light breeze blew by him and he tensed, turning around quickly.

He couldn't see the end of the alleyway, only the light reflected off of some trashcans and the blurry colors. The sound of something like a giggle echoed in the air and Karyl groaned.

"I don't have anything else! Just take my wallet and go!" He stifled the urge to yell 'don't hurt me' at the end of it, praying that the little girl with pigtails would be satisfied.

Something light, but clingy- like spider webs when you walk through them- ghosted over his forearm and Karyl choked down a scream and whirled around. His eyes squinted in a vain attempt at seeing the area. Nothing.

There it was again. The sound of the giggle drifted over the air and Karyl started to move more quickly towards the end of the alleyway, "Look, I know you're stronger than me but this isn't funny anymore!" He yelled, becoming a bit angered as well as piss scared when he heard a trash canister clutter against the asphalt, having obviously been knocked over.

"Stop it! Leave me alone!" He screamed, stumbling down the darkened passage, hands smoothing over the brick of the wall desperately.

"_Karyl," _cooed the same voice.

The boy startled, before reminding himself that the girl had stolen his wallet, and therefore his IDs, "Really clever," he grunted in irritation, "Where are your parents?" He mumbled to himself as he fought down the sensation of fear building in his chest.

"_Karyl, I want you." _The voice was a bit more insistent and Karyl found himself staggering a bit when he heard it whispered in his ear.

"Gah!" He cried, falling down on his butt and tugging on his lobe in disbelief when he looked up and saw that he was alone in the alley.

"_Karyl…"_

"Get away from me!" He yelped, scuttling back on his bum using the heels of his feet.

"_Karyl."_

"Stop!" He screamed, crossing his arms over his face and trying a pathetic attempt at a fetal position.

"Karyl!"

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" He hollered with an amount of gusto not usual for his character.

A hand clamped down on his forearm, and pried it away from his face, and Karyl instinctively flung a punch that was easily classified as laughable. The person who grabbed his arm took a step back, however.

"Karyl, what the hell is the matter with you?" Came a cross, and very familiar voice.

Karyl looked up and met the blue stare of his younger sister, "Kelly?" He croaked.

The beautiful looking girl bent an arm at her waist and stared at her older sibling with a mixture of annoyance, skepticism, and concern. Her boyfriend's letterman's jacket hung off her thin shoulders, "Why the hell did you punch me? What happened to your glasses? And _please _tell me that stain on your pants is water."

Karyl whimpered, "I…did you see her?" He questioned, fumbling around, trying to grab his sister's shoulder. Kelly huffed before helping him up.

"See who?"

"The girl-" He quickly corrected himself, "The hardcore bitch that just mugged me?"

Kelly sent him a level look as the two siblings began to walk out towards the main road, "What are you talking about?"

"Some hardcore gang member with guns-" there had been no guns, "-attacked me without warning-" she had actually been quite loud, "-and took everything off me!"

Kelly stared at him, "Are you alright?"

"No I'm not all right, I'm kind of freaking the fuck out!" He said with a bit of a shrill to his tone. Kelly sighed, knowing her older brother's overreacting tendencies and his unfortunately effeminate disposition.

"Karyl, there was no one there, calm down and let's go home."

Karyl ran a hand through his hair, "Now I'm going to have to cancel my credit cards, and fill out paperwork, and she probably stole my _identity _and is using my _credit cards that aren't cancelled yet _to buy plane trips to Mexico-"

"Karyl."

"-and buying _crack and…and pot_ and I'm sure they can trace credit card transactions for crack in Mexico and it's going to all be under _my _name because she stole my identity-"

"Karyl!"

"And I don't want to go to jail because I've got that scholarship and jail is scary and they probably _never _clean the toilets and-"

"Karyl, you moron calm the hell down!" Kelly said, stomping her foot on his.

He shrilled, again, but his little fit subsided. He gave a long suffering sigh, "I'm not having a fun night."

"It's not a big deal, we'll go file a police report and cancel your credit cards, okay?" Kelly soothed, rubbing her big brother's shoulder for comfort.

Karyl sighed unhappily and allowed himself to be strolled away, even still, he had the sensation that he was being followed.

And in the darkness, a pair of yellow eyes glistened as crimson painted lips smirked.


	2. Allow Me to Introduce Your Leading Man

**Chapter One: Allow Me to Introduce Your Leading Man**

_The boy lifted up the large sword, bracing himself for an attack from his opponent. The man across from him had been his mentor, teacher, and friend, and the boy couldn't help but hold back on his attacks._

_His mentor cackled evilly, "Is that all you've got? You've become soft." _

"_And you've become twisted," snarled the younger man, raising his sword to cut off his head._

"_You'll never take me alive! I'm stronger than you could ever hope to be-"_

"Stanton." There was a knock on the door.

"_No, _I'm _stronger because I'm doing what's right. You're pathetic. And a coward-"_

"Stanton!"

The boy rolled his eyes, and turned up the volume.

"_AND NOW I WILL HAVE VENGEANCE!" The young man screamed, driving the sword into the mentor's stomach. _

"Stanton open the damn door!" Came the growl of frustration.

He sighed heavily, tossing some of his hair out of his face and pressing pause on the movie he had been watching. Barefooted feet scuttled across a carpet littered with paperbacks, old black and white movies, and the one Playboy hidden carefully in an obscure corner. Mechanically, Stanton cracked open the door, saw who it was, and then released the deadbolt to his room.

"Man, you make being your friend a real pain in the ass sometimes," said Tymmie grumpily, smoothing a hand over his recently shaved head and frowning at the screen, "That old crap again?"

"It's a classic," Stanton said levelly, picking up the remote and turning off the screen that was frozen on the black and white image of two knights fighting.

Tymmie shrugged after a few moments of scrutiny, "Whatever. Are you ready to go?"

He shook his head without any trace of regret.

His frown deepened, "Come on, man, I called you twice! I'm supposed to meet Zahi there in ten, and the guy gets real pissy when I'm late."

Stanton felt himself grimace at the mention of the charismatic teenager. Zahi Semblant had transferred to La Brea High during freshman year, and the man was known to have his sticky fingers in pretty much everything. Handsome and charming, he was well liked and well respected in almost all of the social circles. And because of that, with a smile the kid could get away with murder. Stanton felt uneasy around him, and the two had butted heads since he first came two years ago.

Tymmie, however, liked Zahi, for one important reason of course. Zahi was his connection, a few dollars ("Discounts for friends," he'd say with that goddamned smile) and Tymmie would have enough pot to sustain him for weeks. Tymmie himself was somewhat of a contradiction, the guy had been a straight stoner since junior high, yet he was the smartest and clearest thinking person that Stanton had ever met. The two had been neighbors, and something close to best friends, since Stanton was still in diapers.

Tymmie began picking at the scabbed portion of his new lip piercing, "Let's get going, huh?"

Stanton stared down at his attire. Gray sweats, a white tee shirt, and no shoes. "I need to change."

Tymmie snorted, "Who the hell cares? No one at The Pits, that's for damn sure."

The Pits was the nickname Tymmie had given the back area of Planet Bang, and was the place where most of the burnouts congregated to drop some acid or pop pills away from security's eyes.

"Yeah, but I care," he said flatly, pulling off his shirt and reaching for a black button down.

Tymmie's nose scrunched up, "Hell, man, warn a guy before you start stripping down!" He said, sliding out of the room as quickly as he had entered. After a few moments, Stanton heard him going down the stairs and striking up a conversation with Lambert, Stanton's uncle and legal guardian.

Stanton sighed quietly, and looked out of the window. There was a full moon out, but something made him uneasy. He felt silly, after all he wasn't a stranger to The Pits and their drug sessions, but something just didn't settle right with him. He thought about skipping out, but he also knew Tymmie would tear him a new asshole for bailing on him. As tough as Tymmie tried to appear with the shaved head and the numerous facial piercings, the guy was insecure as hell when he was around people he wasn't familiar with. And besides Zahi, Stanton was really the poor guy's only friend due to his somewhat abrasive personality.

Stanton absently touched the gold ring on his thumb that was an heirloom from his deceased father, and something akin to comfort filtered through him. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.

He finished changing, and as soon as he left his room, the shadows began to whisper.

ooo

"I'm just saying it wouldn't kill you to get out once in a while, Mr. Malmaris," Tymmie said flatly as he sat across from Lambert at the kitchen table.

Lambert stopped his furious researching to look up and raise an eyebrow at the younger man, "I think I'll take social advice from someone that doesn't spend the weekends getting stoned off of illegal drugs, Tymothy."

Tymmie smirked good naturedly, "Fair enough," he leaned over, "What are you working on?"

Lambert gave a slight sigh of annoyance, "Nothing that would interest you," he said dismissively as he took a sip of coffee and traced his finger across a withered old paper.

"You don't give me any credit," Tymmie said with a pout.

The older man sighed, and the glare behind his wire rim glasses spoke volumes. "It's a translation of the philosophical teachings of Plato."

Lambert Malmaris was Stanton's uncle through marriage, as his late wife Ursula had been a sister to Stanton's mother. He was a handsome looking man in his forties, and a freelance writer by profession. Stanton wasn't sure what he did exactly, just that he was smart, published, and apparently made a ton of money although neither of them ever seemed to see it. The two lived alone, as Lambert and Ursula had taken in Stanton after his parents and brothers had died in the accident when he was young. Lambert and Stanton's father had been best friends throughout high school and college, and his death had hit him hard. His wife's death three years later had left him rather withdrawn and in a state of almost permanent cynicism. He was more of a friend than a father figure, never harping on grades or the fact that his ward was best friends with someone who condoned illegal activities.

"Right on," Tymmie said dismissively and Lambert gave another grunt of annoyance. It covered up his smile, however. It was a little hidden fact that Lambert had a soft spot for Tymmie like he did for Stanton, seeing the two of them like surrogate sons.

Stanton came down the stairs at that moment, picking up a dark jacket and sliding his arms through it as he entered the kitchen. Tymmie stood up abruptly.

"Finally, you prune like an old woman!" He snorted, and Stanton rolled his eyes.

"Some of us change clothes every three days," he deadpanned.

Tymmie unconsciously sniffed his armpits.

Lambert looked up from his paper, "When are you going to be home?"

Tymmie grinned, "Why, worried about your babies?"

Lambert glared at him, and Tymmie grinned wider.

"I don't know. Late," Stanton said, obviously not caring.

"Make sure to lock the door," Lambert said, taking another sip of coffee.

"Will do," Tymmie gave a mock salute and practically shoved Stanton out of the shoddy little house. "Let's golet'sgolet'sgo!"

"Calm down," Stanton said with annoyance, "It's only Zahi, who cares if we're late?"

Tymmie snorted, "You're fucking rude sometimes, you know."

ooo

They were late, Zahi noted with a little irritation as he looked at his wristwatch. It didn't matter much, of course, as he was surrounded with friends, and most importantly, potential clients, but it wasn't like Tymmie to be late. Stanton, definitely, but not Tymmie.

He exhaled again, tossing some dark hair out of his face as he leaned against a wall comfortably. Almost everyone else was out on the floor, dancing to some electronic mix and generally having a good time.

"Hey," came a greeting from his side, and Zahi turned and smiled when he saw who it was.

"Hello Kelly," he said with genuine happiness. Kelly was one of Zahi's friends from school, a pretty blonde cheerleader with a friendly and open personality, "Where's Murray?" He asked, inquiring about Kelly's boyfriend and his friend.

She snorted, "Trying to get Karyl out of the car. He's my brother, and I love him, but he's such a dork sometimes."

Karyl was Kelly's older brother, and sort of had the infamous reputation of being a 'reclusive little weirdo'. The boy was a worrywart, and a bit strange to boot. He was Kelly's social opposite, but the two had a close bond that was admirable.

Zahi rose an eyebrow in disbelief, "You brought _Karyl _to a club?"

Kelly sighed, looking down at her open toed sandals which revealed perfectly painted nails, "He's been acting strange-" an arch look from Zahi, "-okay, strang_er _since he was mugged last week. I thought getting him outside around people would do him some good."

"I thought he hated being around people."

"He does, but it's better then moping around in his room." Kelly replied levelly. She looked up, and waved, a smile breaking out on her face. "I'll talk to you later, Zahi, Murray finally managed to pry him away from his protective cocoon."

Zahi chuckled at that and nodded, watching the girl filter through the crowd towards her boyfriend and brother. He looked down at his watch again, sighing. This was no good. There were other buyers if Tymmie wasn't going to show, but Zahi didn't want to cheat his friend either. Ah, dilemma.

A few moments passed before Zahi's silent thoughts were interrupted by a playful voice coming from his side.

"Hi there handsome," Zahi didn't recognize the voice so he figured she was addressing someone else.

The girl who called out to him pouted slightly, crossing her arms and obviously not liking being ignored. After a few moments, she playfully grabbed his arm. Zahi startled, not expecting that as he looked down, "What's a boy like you doing being a wallflower?"

Zahi stared at the girl and his breath caught. She was ridiculously attractive, not in the made-up, overdone way that most girls his age went, but naturally. She had wide, expressive eyes and her brown hair was curled into ringlets. A nose stud glittered in the lights and Zahi had to force himself not to admire the view she presented in nothing but a halter top and a mini skirt.

Immediately, he recovered from his stupefied shock and threw her his most charming grin, "Waiting for someone like you, naturally."

She smirked, and a mischievous twinkle lit up her eyes, "Smooth, what's your name?"

"Zahi, and yours?"

She winked, "I'll tell you if you dance with me."

Zahi grinned back, and made a big show of thinking it out, "I don't know…"

The mysterious girl stuck her tongue out at him, "Oh come on, spoilsport." With that, she grabbed his hand and started to drag him out into the crowd.

Zahi couldn't help but smile as she started to dance with him. He'd just have to meet up with Tymmie later. Opportunities only came around so often, after all.

And as he moved, he was totally oblivious to the way her eyes glowed in the darkness.

--


	3. And the Lights Dim

**AN **Thanks for the reviews! I love you all!

…except Murray. Because no one loves him : )

**Chapter Two: And The Lights Dim**

His eyes were strained shut, his breathing labored as his nails dug harshly into the unrelenting surface.

"Karyl," came a tired sounding voice.

His eyes clenched even tighter, beads of sweat formed on his brow.

"Karyl," it was a little more insistent this time.

He would not yield!

"Karyl, let go of the car door."

Well, when put that way he felt silly. Karyl's fingers flexed a bit, releasing the handle of the car door that Murray had tried to forcibly pry him from moments before at Kelly's request. The two boys were in a street parking lot located across from Planet Bang, and it wasn't a stretch of the imagination to say that Karyl looked nine tenths full of batshit, and one tenth crazy. Even though he was a lanky, scrawny specimen of teenage boy, he was obviously older than the young man that was trying to forcefully extract him from a station wagon, and clearly old enough not to be throwing a tantrum.

"I don't want to go!" He protested.

"Fair enough, but stop smudging my car. I just waxed it this morning."

"…it's a station wagon, Murray."

"Pride in possessions never hurt anyone."

"Actually, classical literature has shown multiple times-"

"Cut the academia crap, Karyl, you know what I mean," Murray cut off the older brother of his long-term girlfriend, leaning against the station wagon and pinching the bridge of his pierced nose.

Murray was a hardcore, anarchist kid. And while the scraped knuckles, tattooed arms, and clothes held together by little more than safety pins and willpower tended to scream 'Warning! Predator!' to people like the hopelessly dorky and easily targeted Karyl, the two were oddly enough friends due mostly to Murray's relationship with Karyl's younger sister. Something that still bewildered the poor kid. Cheerleaders just didn't fall for the guys who burned flags and vandalized cop cars. They just didn't.

Maybe there was hope for Karyl after all-

"Karyl, those _junior high girls_ are laughing at you like you're a moron. _Junior high _kids, Karyl," Murray stated pointedly.

Scratch out that having hope thing.

Truth be told, it wasn't just Karyl's antisocial tendencies that made him want to run from Planet Bang like a space ship from a black hole, it was the dreams.

In the dreams, there was something lurking, pulling at Karyl and trying to get him closer. Something evil, the same something that he had felt the night he had been mugged not too long ago. It didn't settle right with the teenager, and Karyl could hear his heart hammering out of its ribcage in an attempt at self-preservation. He was piss scared, something that wasn't uncommon for him truth be told, but he was piss scared to the point of _actually _pissing. A woman's voice called to him, beckoning for him to come to her.

Naturally, Karyl opted to lock the door and cower under his quilt for a few years, but then his well-intentioned but helplessly nosy sister decided to intervene. After the third day or so, she had actually kicked- damn those gymnastics lessons!- his door down, getting Murray to forcibly drag him out of the room despite his really whiny protests.

And now, here he was. All dressed up and ready for a night on the town.

Except, dressed up really meant Star Trek convention shirt and khaki pants that were about an inch too short, and a night on the town was really a night on the town that might kill him.

If Murray didn't kill him first.

And god help Karyl, the kid looked sorely tempted.

"Come on now, Karyl. I like you and all, but I might have to seriously kick your ass if you keep me out here for too long," as if to prove his point, Murray withdrew something silver from his pocket-

-Karyl cowered and crouched into a defensive stance-

-and used it to light a cigarette. He stared at the kung-fu wannabe move Karyl had pulled and blinked slowly as he inhaled, "What are you doing, man?"

"…nothing."

"Anyways, Kelly's looking damn good tonight-"

Karyl cringed again, this time for an entirely different reason. He didn't like knowing that other people thought of his baby sister as a babe. He only saw her as his sibling, an accessory that was perky and fun- like a cute, fluffy, and completely asexual keychain.

"Sorry man, but skirts like that should be outlawed-" Murray pressed, seeing his friend's grimace.

"You're making me uncomfortable," Karyl said levelly.

"You think I'm comfortable standing out here talking to a lunatic that won't let go of a car door?" After a beat, "No offense."

Karyl sighed heavily, "None taken," he replied in the automatic, robot way of the irreparably and unrepentant geek that spends a good deal of his time unintentionally embarrassing everyone that knows him. As if to make amends, he released his death grip on the handle of the station wagon.

Murray's lips smirked around a cloud of smoke, "See that? We're making progress!" He tilted his head towards the entrance for the club, "C'mon, Karyl, just hang out long enough to stop Kelly from freaking out. You might even have fun."

Karyl exhaled, making exaggerated fake coughing noises and waving his hand in front of his face. Murray irritably got the hint and stubbed out the cigarette under his combat boot. "It's not that I don't want to go-"

A glare from Murray's end.

"-it's just…" he paused, realizing that he was about to say 'the scary dreams' and lose all the shreds of masculinity that he had managed to retain. "That hardcore bitch who mugged me," he covered instead.

Murray's scowl softened somewhat in sympathy, "Yeah, I know, man, if a little girl-"

"-hardcore bitch-"

"-stole all my shit I'd be scared too- well, actually, I'd be pissed and would try to take them out, but your way works for you in that sissy kind of manner. But what I'm trying to say is that you need to put your fears behind you and all that shit because your sister is wearing a mini-skirt and I am one horny bastard tonight."

"…Um, thanks Murray."

"Anytime Karyl, now let's go party. I've got your back if someone tries to stir shit up. And so does Kelly."

Karyl frowned, "Are you saying I need my little sister to protect me-?"

"She's way stronger than you Karyl, admit it."

Karyl's frown deepened as he reverted to a sulking mode.

Murray rolled his eyes, but was relieved to see that he was actually walking with him towards Planet Bang.

Shadows whirled and hissed in their wake.

ooo

"Look at her," said the blonde girl next to her in disgust, blue eyes trained on an attractive dancing couple, more specifically on the girl with curly brown hair, "Does she even know what she's doing?"

She sighed, stretching out perfect, long legs languidly and leaning back against the soft couch, craning her neck back in exhaustion, "She's just having fun," she whispered, her voice like silk even when muffled against her arm.

"Fun is for Followers with experience," the blonde said callously, although there was a flicker of something the leader couldn't recognize behind her stare, "She's going to mess this all up."

A snort came from the side, "I remember someone bending the rules more than a little with a certain scrawny geek," came a deep, masculine voice drenched in bitterness.

Laughter rang out, "Sounds to me like someone's jealous," stated another pretty dark-haired girl, who was sitting next to the leader, leaning against her side slightly. The leader didn't appear to mind.

"Shut up," the blonde girl said surprisingly, although her voice was light, obviously liking that the dark man in the shadows was fuming angrily.

"The 'scrawny geek' is a potential target, just like the boy Atertra's playing with," the leader said calmly, "There's no harm in playing with toys."

"No harm in breaking them either," came the dark haired girl, as her eyes flashed yellow under the strobe lights.

ooo

The car sputtered to a stop in the parking lot, and Tymmie let out a murmured prayer to anyone that was listening as he turned the key in the ignition. Stanton inwardly rolled his eyes, knowing that Tymmie's two-ton paperweight routinely stalled and even refused to start on the best of days. It was a miracle that it had made the journey from Stanton's house to Planet Bang at all.

"He's going to kill me," Tymmie muttered in annoyance, sending a meaningful glare at Stanton, who in turn shrugged with complete apathy, "I mean it! He's probably already sold my stuff."

Again Stanton could only muster up the energy to shrug, "It's probably better for you if he did."

Tymmie opened his mouth to retort, sighed, and rolled his shoulders, "Whatever. Let's just get going, alright princess?"

Stanton scowled at the name, but nevertheless allowed his friend to lead the way towards the entrance of the club. As the pair stood in line, Stanton couldn't help but feel his eyes unfocus, blurs of neon and darkness covering up his vision, twirling into shapes he couldn't quite make out. Annoyed, he blinked quickly, and his vision would clear before sliding into a haze again. He frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose and slightly shaking his head.

Tymmie, unfortunately observant, noticed his friend's peculiar behavior as they inched forward in the entrance line, "Stanton, what's up with you? Are you tripping on something?" Tymmie knew asking the question was pointless, Stanton never dabbled or dipped in places the law barred.

"Nothing, just a headache," he said dismissively, avoiding Tymmie's concerned stare by pushing ahead of the line.

The bouncer let Stanton pass without a second's hesitation, but he eyed Tymmie with more scrutiny. The teenager shifted awkwardly, rubbing a hand over the top of his shaved scalp. Stanton sighed, grabbing onto his friend's arm and propelling him passed the door, then quickly letting go of him.

"Why do you let him judge you?" Stanton said, as it was routine for Tymmie to get inspected rather callously by the doormen of clubs.

Tymmie scoffed, "Whatever. I do not."

Stanton could only shake his head, "Let's find Zahi and go."

Tymmie rose his eyebrows at his best friend, "And miss out on the party? You lack a sense of adventure, Stanton."

Stanton scowled, "I just find these areas…annoying." Again, his vision blurred, and he felt as if he were going cross eyed.

"To each their own," Tymmie surrendered, searching the crowd for his other friend, "I'm going to look for Zahi in there-" he gestured to the sea of dancers, "-you brave enough to try with me?"

He smiled slightly, "No thanks, I lack a sense of adventure."

Tymmie rolled his eyes, "Oh, ha ha," he deadpanned, "I guess I'll just meet you back over here in ten, sound good?"

"Fine," Stanton said, already making a b-line for the sitting area.

Tymmie laughed, the guy was horrendously predicable, or at least to Tymmie he was.

Stanton watched his friend enter the crowd, before turning his back and sitting down.

He wouldn't see Tymmie again for the rest of the night.

ooo

**Up Next: **Tymmie runs into thugs, Zahi sells some drugs, and Karyl could really use more hugs.


End file.
